


You Deserve To Be Saved

by keepcalmanddonotblink, MashiarasDream



Series: Hello, Dean [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: DeanCas - Freeform, Demon!Dean, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Sexual Violence, fading!Cas, mostly set in canon, post s9, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:10:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2323304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepcalmanddonotblink/pseuds/keepcalmanddonotblink, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream/pseuds/MashiarasDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saving Dean Winchester. That was his mission in the first place. And no matter what it costs, Cas will save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Deserve To Be Saved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keepcalmanddonotblink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepcalmanddonotblink/gifts).



> This story is a very specific prompt from keepcalmanddonotblink. Hence, I cannot be held responsible for any ensuing pain. Please be aware that trigger warnings apply for this story. Also, major character death.

Castiel’s breath hitched when he saw the darkness. It always did. Didn’t matter that he had seen it before. Didn’t matter that the image was weaker now that his Grace was barely enough to sustain any connection to the powers of the making. He still didn’t need to see the pitch black of the eyes to see the darkness that had swallowed the soul.

“Dean…”

A growl and a dizzying spin towards him, blade already in hand.

He’d made a tactical mistake, zapping here instead of going through the front door. Of course then he might have had to fight minions. But the trip had weakened him to the point where he had to fight to keep a firm stance. But he had to. The tightened his grip around the demon knife that was still in his pocket. This, he could not avoid.

“What do you want?” The voice was a snarl, barely recognizable.

It made his chest ache so badly that he had to force some air back into his lungs before he could even answer. “I want to end this.”

It came out weak and the answering laugh cut to his bones. “Try that once more with feeling, Cas.”

He curled his fists at his sides. “The time for feelings is over, Dean.”

Another hollow laugh: “Right, you never did understand references. Always such a freak.”

A hard little ball formed in his stomach. “Do you even remember?” he asked.

“Do I remember what? Do I remember how pathetic you look with those big sad puppy dog eyes? Do I remember what a weak excuse for an Angel you are, betraying everything and everyone around you and still never reaching your goals?”

Dean had started to move in the middle of his little speech and Castiel immediately started circling, keeping the distance between him and Dean even. He wasn’t ready yet.

“You’re wrong.”

“Oh, come on, Cas, you failed and we both know it”, Dean mocked. “Cause it was always about this, wasn’t it? You didn’t care jackshit about heaven or your angel siblings. It was always just about saving me. And guess what? You can’t. Cause this is who I am. This is who I always was. My true form. And my true form doesn’t give shit about your pathetic little ass.”

He bit his lip hard. He couldn’t let this get to him. Not now. Not when so much was at stake. But the hard ball in his stomach kept growing. “You’re wrong”, he pressed out between tight lips and finally moved his hand forward so that the dim light could catch the sparkle of metal.

“Finally we’re getting somewhere!” Dean exclaimed when he recognized the demon knife. He lunged without further preamble.

Cas had the sense to duck to the side, narrowly avoiding the swipe of the angel blade. He whirled and took his own stab at Dean, aiming at his ribs but slicing through empty air.

“You’re slow, Cas. And here I thought you were a soldier! Come on! Don’t they teach you? Or did your love for humanity make you weak?” Dean spat out the word ‘humanity’ like a foul fruit.

Cas gritted his teeth against the pain. The truth was, he was always weak now. He felt it in the sluggishness of his muscles, in the ache in his bones. It was the endless fever of slowly burning up. If the pain of looking into the abyss that had once been Dean’s bright soul wasn’t so much worse, he’d say the constant pain was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Death would be merciful. Death would be an end to the pain. He’d welcome it. Yes, freedom was a length of rope. And he was going to hang himself with it. “Then kill me, Dean. If I’m so weak, it shouldn’t give you any trouble.”

Another lunge of attack, another evasive move, this time with a well-aimed kick at Dean’s knee-cap. Dean stumbled forward but caught himself and stabbed the angel blade backwards before Cas could bring down the knife. He slithered to a halt, the blade grazing his arm, slicing a cut through the fabric and the skin. He felt the blood gushing out of the wound before closing his mind to the pain. There was nothing he could do about it. Just keep a tight grip on the knife.

“You know what, Cas? I rather enjoy this. I think I might drag it out for a while. Didn’t you always want a cat? Now I am the cat and you are the mouse.”

“I am not a rodent!” But precision and force at the same time where already beyond him. His attack ran into nothing when Dean easily side-stepped him and Cas almost tripped when he tried to rein in his impulse. He had waited too long. He was too weak.

Dean used his momentary confusion and sliced a cut from above. Cas threw himself backwards but the wall was behind him and a double wave of pain hit him when the back of his head connected with the wall while Dean’s cut opened a deep gash on his forehead. Blood poured over his face, temporarily blinding him and it was all he could do to gather the momentum to roll out of the way.

Of course that meant he lost his balance completely and ended up on his knees.

A split-second later, Dean was over him, roughly yanking at his hair while crushing a boot down on his hand. He heard the bones break before the nauseating wave of pain hit him and he screamed.

Dean kicked the demon blade out from where it had fallen under his now useless hand. “You used to put up more of a fight, Cas. One could almost think you wanted to die. Is that it? You can’t live without me so you’d rather die at my hands? Aww, that’s so cute. And pathetic.”

It was hard to focus. ‘Breathe. Breathe slower. Make your heart go slower and stop the blood from flowing out of that gash. It’s no use to anyone if you bleed out here, Cas.’

Forming words was hard, much harder than he remembered and his voice was halting and slow: “It has always been you, Dean. It has always been you. So this is only fitting.”

A rough laugh shook Dean’s body, sending shockwaves of pain through Castiel from the fast hold in his hair.

Gritting his teeth against the agony, Cas mustered all his defiance into his voice: “You should do this like a man, not like a feline, Dean. You owe me that much. Don’t toy with me. Slit my throat and be done with it.”

A humorless grin spread over Dean’s face: “Are you so eager to die?” He let the blade glide alongside Cas’ face, a movement that could almost have been called tender had it not been for the tight grip in his hair holding him in place when he tried to flinch away from the touch, from the mockery of what their bond had once been.

“Aw, Cas, don’t be shy now. Don’t you want me anymore?”

He was so close now that Dean’s breath on his skin had Cas shudder. He concentrated on the freckles, the freckles that were still the same as they’d always been. But when Dean placed his hand under his chin and forcefully lifted it up, he screwed his eyes shut. He couldn’t bear the eyes. Not now. Not when it was the last thing he was going to see.

“I don’t want you”, he managed to spit out, but it sounded more pleading than convincing even to his own ears.

“You sure about that?”

The cruelty in the voice filled Cas with panic and his eyes sprang open while he tried to scramble away, but it was no use, he was too weak, and Dean’s mouth crushed down on his, forcing his lips open, the metallic taste of his own blood mingling with the bitter taste of Dean’s spit.

He cried out in vain, his scream mangled and broken, his defenses crumbling, the hot tongue roaming his mouth wrong, so very wrong. He could feel himself breaking, could feel his heart shattering at the violation of everything that was them, everything that might have been them had the future been kinder than it turned out to be.

“Please”, he whimpered when Dean finally let go, “please just kill me.” ‘Please Father, please. Let my choice of death be what my choices in life weren’t,’ he pleaded silently, though his Father was as likely to listen as Dean.

“Oh, Cas, what happened to trying out the whole range of human emotions? Wasn’t that what you wanted? To feel? Isn’t that what you gave heaven up for?”

He gathered together what little courage and strength he had left and spit into Dean’s face. “You taste vile. But you can’t break my heart. Because you’re nothing.”

It was the truth and yet it wasn’t. The black nothing had enveloped everything that was Dean’s essence. But it wasn’t him. And because it wasn’t him, Dean was still in there. And because he was still in there, he had every power to shatter Cas. But he couldn’t. Because if he did, then Cas really had failed in everything he ever tried. And he was fading. He could feel his control slip. He was losing too much blood. He had to make Dean act. He had to end this.

‘Father, if I ever needed strength, it is now. If you can, please, show me this mercy, even though I have been a wayward son.’ “I am not sorry.” He was still talking to his Father and the words gave him strength. “I chose free will. I chose humanity.” He pushed himself upright. “I chose to love. I do not regret it and I do not ask for your forgiveness. It is my choice.”

And with that he lunged forward, lunged right into the angel blade.

He choked on his next breath before he even registered the pain. It howled into a storm, paralyzing him, blinding him. Then he noticed that it was the light that was blinding him, the light, not the pain. There was something. There was something he had to do with the blinding light. He tried to remember, mind suddenly slow.

Oh yes, Dean. He looked over to where he sat, stunned, staring at the light while the red blood soaked his shirt. Dean. Cas cupped his good hand under the cut. He had to save Dean. The Grace poured out of him, in thick, liquid drops and he remembered that he had prayed it would be like this. Prayed that he could do this. He looked at the little pool of light in his palm mesmerized by its radiance.

But he had to act, had to act fast. There was something he had to do. Oh yes, Dean. He took his hand and pressed it to Dean’s mouth. Dean didn’t react, still stunned motionless. But he had to react, he had to open his mouth. The Grace had to be inside Dean to have any effect. And now it was dripping off Dean’s lips uselessly.  
Every breath hurt more than the last. The world started to swim in front of his eyes.

He had to save Dean.

“Please”, but the word was soundless, voice forever lost.

He fell forward, hand still clinging to Dean’s face and because there was nothing else he could do, he pressed his lips to Dean’s.

“Please. Please, let me save you. You deserve to be saved”, it was still soundless but mouthed against Dean’s lips it made Dean shudder and he opened his mouth to gasp in a breath.

And that was enough.

Suddenly there was a violent shiver when Dean went rigid. He threw Cas off and Cas hit the floor heavily, unable to even buffer his fall.

His good hand came up to his throat, pressing against the flow of liquid though he knew it was useless. There was no Grace left in him, only blood. And that was running out fast.

All the light now radiated from Dean. Radiated from inside him, dim at first, then growing steadier, pulsating and getting brighter with every beat of his heart until it enveloped him, then enveloped Cas, too, and finally filled the whole room before exploding into a thousand stars and disappearing.

Dean fell heavily to his knees, whole body limp and sagging.

But then his eyes focused, focused on “Cas!” and with that cry he was up and he was there and his hands pushed at the gash in Cas’ throat and he ripped his shirt off and pressed it against the cut, too.

But Cas couldn’t bring himself to care about the blood or the pain anymore. All he saw was the eyes. Bright green. And the light of Dean’s soul behind them. He had done it. He had saved Dean. That was everything he had prayed for, asked for, wished for. Dean Winchester was saved. Gratefulness flooded him. ‘Thank you, Father.’

“Cas, Cas! Can you hear me? Stay with me, Cas! I can’t lose you! I need you!”

The blackness was already creeping in at the edges of Cas’ view. But it didn’t matter. The pain was receding with the light, and that was alright. He sought what strength he had left and concentrated it in his hand until it finally moved and cupped Dean’s fingers, stilling his frantic movements.

And finally Dean locked eyes with him, saw him, really saw him for the first time in so long. A joy filled Cas’ heart and it mended everything that had been broken today. Everything. He smiled, trying to convey all that he felt, all his love, in that one moment that was his reward.

He fought his body for another bubbling breath and even though he knew there was no voice to accompany the words, his smile encompassed everything: “Hello Dean.”

If there was an answer, he didn’t hear it anymore, because the green faded, color draining from Castiel’s vision, making way for the darkness and then for the light.


End file.
